So Not Meant To Be

“I truly, truly hate you,” I say into the phone as I stand outside the restaurant.

“Do you hate me or do you hate yourself?” Breaker asks. “Because you’re the one who lost the bet.”

“My shoe was untied, I called a time-out, you didn’t listen, you scored the winning basket, and basically . . . you cheated.”

“Jesus,” Breaker huffs. “What a load of crap and you know it. You didn’t call a time-out until I juked you, you lunged, and I blew past you. I beat you fair and square.”

Hand in one pocket, I toe the sidewalk and say, “Well, we needed a replay.”

“Why don’t you act like a man, own up to your loss, and take the consequences without complaining?”

“Because I don’t want to do this.”

“Then you never should’ve placed the bet.”

“Yeah, well . . . I didn’t think I was going to lose.”

He laughs into the phone. “Not my problem.”

“Fuck . . . fine.” I push my hand through my hair. “But this is fucking stupid.”

“Let me ask you this—are you mad because you lost, or are you mad because you’re going on a date that isn’t with the apple of your eye?”

“There’s no apple of my eye.”

Breaker snorts. “Dude, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re infatuated with Kelsey and it bothers you that she wants nothing to do with you.”

“Kelsey?” I guffaw so loudly that I draw the attention of a man walking into the restaurant. I give him a nod and then turn around for some privacy. “Kelsey is a pill. She’s uptight, annoying, and doesn’t know a good thing when it’s standing right in front of her.”

“Meaning you,” Breaker says, his voice full of humor.

“Uh, yeah, clearly. Why would I want to go on a date with someone who thinks more highly of a piece of gum stuck on her shoe than me?”

“Hmm, maybe I should ask Kelsey out. We seem to have a lot in common.”

“Fuck . . . off,” I groan as I turn toward the restaurant. He better not ask Kelsey out. If she doesn’t want me—and I’m extremely likable—then she wouldn’t want Breaker. Kelsey is blind and highhanded. And I wish I didn’t fantasize about her. Frequently. “This was really stupid. I know nothing about this girl.”

“Not true. You know that she lives here, that she owns her own business, and that she believes roses are the most romantic flower in the world.”

“Yeah, exactly. Why this fucking computer thought we’d be a match, I have no idea. It probably saw business owner on our profiles and was like, done. Easy. Match made in heaven. This place is over-hyped and ridiculous.”

“It’s not like you have to stay that long. Just go have a drink and then—”

“That’s not how this process works. You have to stay and have a meal with the person. It’s the godforsaken program.”

Breaker snorts. “Oh shit, really?”

“Yes, really. Something about how they want you to get to know the person before making a snap judgment and moving on to the next date.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah, for someone who doesn’t have to go on the date.”

“Dude, stop bitching and just go in there. Jesus, aren’t you late?”

I glance down at my watch. Shit, six minutes late. I sigh heavily and say, “I hate you.”

“Can’t wait to hear all about the date. Have fun, bro.”

“Fuck off.” I hang up as his laughter booms through the phone.

Now, if I were a true asshole, someone who didn’t keep their word, I’d go right past this restaurant, hang out at a bar, and catch the latest Rebels game. But even though that sounds incredibly appealing, I’m not that guy. I can’t stand someone up. I would feel way too damn guilty.

So, I stuff my phone in my pocket and wish this night could be over before it begins.

Going in Blind, what a stupid-as-shit concept.

Letting a computer match you with someone without even seeing what the person looks like . . . seems like reckless behavior if you ask me.

Irresponsible, actually.

And holding them hostage until the meal is over?

Well, guess who’s about to annihilate a meal to get the hell out of here?

Me.

I open the door to the restaurant and am greeted by a more-than-jubilant hostess and an entirely too romantic atmosphere. Strings of large bulb lights are draped throughout the space and there’s a plethora of hanging plants, the vines dangling just above the tables. The walls are floor-to-ceiling exposed white brick, the intimate tables all have that urban, metal feel, and the wood beams that run parallel with the ceiling soften the design.

Sure . . . the place is nice.

I’ll give it that.

But the rest of this concept is stupid.

“Good evening, sir,” the ebullient hostess says. “You must be JP.”

Of course they know who I am. I’m sure they have pictures of every person who has been roped into a date here.

Tacking on a smile, I nod. “That would be me.”

“Wonderful. Well, your date is at the bar. Shall I introduce you, or would you like to introduce yourself?”

I glance over at the bar and see a woman in a purple dress sitting alone. I take in her long, brown hair that’s loosely curled and draped over her bare shoulders. Hmm . . .

Maybe this whole thing isn’t entirely stupid.

“I can introduce myself.”

“Wonderful. Have a nice evening.”

“Thank you,” I say before I make my way through the restaurant. When you sign up for the program, they make you choose an avatar, a name to represent you but isn’t your real-life name. I went with ManWearsPants, because I was too annoyed to think of anything clever, and the girl I was matched with, well . . .

“Hello, you must be RosesAreRed,” I say as a greeting.

She sets down her half-empty glass and turns around, almost in slow motion. I hold my breath, steeling myself for what this woman looks like, but when her face comes into view, I’m blown away by the familiar, dark-haired beauty before me.

Her smile is wide, her eyes are hopeful, and when she flicks her hair over her shoulder and looks me in the eyes . . . her face falls flat, her mouth turning into a thin, angry line.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Oh man, this is fucking awesome.

Kelsey Gardner.

What are the odds?

Sticking both my hands in my pockets, I gleefully say, “I’m your date for the evening.”

Glancing over my shoulder, she seems to take a second to comprehend what’s happening and then asks, “Are you some sort of stalker who followed me here? JP, this is going way too freaking far. I’m about to go on a date with someone. I don’t want him thinking I’m here with you, so if you’d please leave—”

“ManWearsPants,” I say, and her eyes narrow.

With a quick look around, she wets her lips, leans in, and in a tight voice, she asks, “Why did you just say that?”

Oh, it’s too fucking cute watching her nose scrunch up in confusion. I was so, so wrong. This evening is going to be so much more fun than I anticipated.

“That’s my avatar. ManWearsPants, and you, my irritated shrew, are RosesAreRed, and you can deny it all you want, but this dating program thinks we’re the perfect match.”

“Well, clearly it was wrong.” The shrillness of her voice reaches a pitch nearly capable of breaking the bottles of liquor behind her. She stands from her chair, snatches her purse, and attempts to walk past me when I grab her hand.

“Excuse me, Miss Irritable, but I believe we aren’t allowed to leave the restaurant until we share a meal together. It’s in the terms and conditions.”

Her eyes flash to mine. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious. I believe it’s section three, line five where it states the definitive guidelines,” I say. “I signed up for this dating app, and I expect to get the full experience.” I flash her a grin that I know irritates her more than anything.

“Everything okay here?” the hostess asks, coming up to us.

“Everything is great,” I answer.

“No, everything is not great,” Kelsey says. “There must have been some mistake with the algorithm and the matching, because I know this man, and let me tell you, I can say with full confidence that we’re not a match.”

“Oh, how interesting. I don’t think we’ve ever had this happen before.”

“Ah, wonderful. So you can imagine how we’d just like to move on from this ill-fated inconvenience and go on our way.”

The hostess shakes her head. I can practically hear the agonized, inner howling from Kelsey, as if this is her own personal doomsday. “I’m so sorry, but unfortunately, you have to stay and enjoy a meal together. It’s part of the terms.”

“But I said I know him.” Kelsey frantically jabs her hand in my direction.

Point all you want, lady, not going to help.

“And I don’t like him. I don’t need to have a meal with him to figure that out.”

“You wound me,” I whisper playfully in her ear. She swats me away with an unexpected flick of her wrist. Whoa, almost got a fingernail to the eyeball.

“Do you see what I’m dealing with? Trust me, you don’t want us sharing a meal together, it’ll distract the other people around us. All we do is bicker.”

“Then we’ll give you one of our new private tables in the loft area.” The hostess smirks and then nods toward the stairs to the right. “Right this way.”

“You can’t be serious,” Kelsey says.

“Looks like she is serious,” I say, pressing my hand to her lower back and guiding her forward.

“You’re really going to make me have dinner with him?”

The hostess doesn’t answer, she just keeps walking, and I keep pushing Kelsey forward, a smile on my face the entire time. Here I thought the night was going to be a complete bust, but it’s turned into a night in which I’m very interested in taking part.

“This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be held against my will.”

We walk up the stairs.

“This program is a load of crock if you think I should be matched with JP. Did you even do a background check?”

We reach the loft, a private space draped in white linen curtains and twinkle lights. There’s one table in the middle, surrounded by an ambiance suited only for intimate lovers, two people tangling in each other’s lives with romantic interludes, long, drawn-out stories of childhood, and far-off fantasies of what their future might look like together.

And then there’s me and Kelsey, the angry porcupine, rearing up her quills and ready to impale me at her first chance.

This sensual room dripping in fairy-tale potential is about to get a show.

“There’s nothing romantic between us, nothing at all. Why is this happening?” she drones on.

The hostess holds out a basket with a sign that so eloquently reads “Unplug and be present” and shakes it at us, clearly and wordlessly stating we must deposit our lifelines within.

I plop my phone in because, if anything, I’m an excellent rule follower.

Panic sweeps through Kelsey’s eyes as she stares down at the basket. “What if I have an important phone call that comes in? What if I need my sister to fake a broken ankle so I can leave?”

At least she’s honest, but it does nothing to dissuade the hostess, and with a feral groan only heard through the depths of a dark, dank night, Kelsey puts her phone in the basket with mine.

Next, we’re shown to our table, parallel to a quaint stone fireplace offering an orange glow for a very romantic evening . . . with the priggish she-wolf.

“Your server’s name is Helix. He’ll be joining you shortly. Please let us know if you need anything,” the hostess says before pulling out both chairs for us.

“Yes, I need to get out of this date. How can you assist me in that?” Kelsey asks.

“I’m sure you two will have a beautiful evening together. Enjoy.”

And then she leaves, taking off downstairs and leaving me completely alone in what some might refer to as a dreamy loft with Kelsey.

A fuming, nostrils-flared Kelsey.

A Kelsey who would most likely prefer to share this space with anyone—and I mean anyone—but me.

She raises her hand and points at me, her finger shaking as she speaks through clenched teeth. “You did this. You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

“What? You’ve lost your mind if you think I have time in my day to figure out what kind of cheesy dating app you’re on, infiltrate the app, and then somehow compromise the system so you and I are forced to have a date together.”

“I knew it.” She throws her hands in the air. “God, and you play the fool so well, when in reality, you’re a conniving birdbrain with nothing better to do than provoke people in your path.”

I take a seat at the table, pick up the napkin in front of me, and rest it across my lap. “Firstly, I said I didn’t have time to do all that. Secondly, conniving birdbrain is an insult I’m going to have to store away for later. It’s a good one.”

“Eww, don’t try to be charming with me.” She takes a seat as well, albeit reluctantly, and folds her napkin over her lap too. She drums her fingers on the table and takes in the lights around us. “What a wasted room.”

See, I knew she’d think that. Do I know this girl or what?

I lean forward and say, “You know, you could try to make the most of this and attempt to be pleasant.”

Her eyes shoot to mine. “Why, JP? I thought men and women who work with each other can’t be friends.”

Touché.

“Not saying we have to be friends, but you could at least not act like an uninspiring wench.”

“Do you expect me to have a conversation with you?”

“That’s what normal people usually do when they share a meal together. Unless there’s a new trend I’m unaware of.”

Just then, Helix comes up the stairs with glasses of water balanced precariously on his tray. After he sets them on the table, he stuffs his tray under his arm and says, “Good evening. Our hostess has informed me that we have a happy love nest up here.”

The deadpan look on Kelsey’s face almost makes me fall out of my chair in laughter, but I hold it together in fear of what would happen to me if I did laugh. After all, there are two knives on this table.

“We’re in a bit of a rush, so if you don’t mind, we’d like to order, eat, and then get the hell out of here.”

“Jesus,” I whisper. “Don’t be rude to the guy.”

Kelsey lets out a slow breath and then plasters on a smile. “I’m sorry. Helix, is it?”

Helix nods.

“You see, when I signed up for this app, I was under the impression that I’d be set up with someone I might actually be interested in. I had all the hope of meeting someone interesting, someone complex, someone fun. I was truly planning on making a deep connection tonight.” Her eyes snap to mine. “And when I say deep connection, I mean mentally . . . not physically.”

I just grin.

“But you see, Helix, instead of meeting someone who could have the potential to sweep me off my feet, I was matched with this insolent, vexatious human who thinks more highly of the hangnail on his finger than the people around him. Unfortunately, I work with him and I know enough about him to understand that there’s nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—we have in common. Therefore—”

“That’s not what the readout on your profiles says.” Helix clutches the tray tightly.

Kelsey blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I heard there might be some trouble up here in paradise, and sometimes, when that happens, we print out the reason the computer connected you both. Would you like me to read it to you?”

“No,” Kelsey says.

“Yes,” I say at the same time. “I would love nothing more than to hear why Kelsey and I are suited for each other.” I cross my ankle over my knee as I scoot back my chair and prepare myself for what I can only imagine will be an absolutely enlightening experience for me and a horrific experience for Kelsey.

From his pocket, Helix pulls out a piece of paper and clears his throat. “You were one of our highest matches in the system with a ninety-seven percent probable success rate.”

HA!

Steam flies out of Kelsey’s ears as my grin just keeps growing wider and wider.

“RosesAreRed and ManWearsPants.” Helix turns to me. “Great name, by the way.”

I nod at him. “Thank you.”

“Oh my God,” Kelsey groans. “There’s absolutely no imagination to that name.”

“As if RosesAreRed is a poetic masterpiece,” I reply. “Might as well have called yourself PointsOutTheObvious.”

Kelsey juts her hand at me and looks at Helix. “See what I’m talking about? Insufferable.”

Looking slightly weary, Helix takes a step back and continues reading. “RosesAreRed and ManWearsPants are both business owners within the Los Angeles area.”

“Whoa, that’s a surprise to no one.” Kelsey folds her arms over her chest and, honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this upset. One of the things I’ve always found interesting about Kelsey is her ability to stay composed, even when under an immense amount of pressure. She never shows emotion, but tonight, I’m experiencing a new side of her. I kind of like it.

“From reviewing their backgrounds, we’ve established likeness in parent abandonment.”

Kelsey falls silent.

“The desire to achieve, and a direct match in fears such as failure, not being loved, and being alone.”

Her eyes flash to mine as I quickly look away. Okay, what the fuck is that shit? Sure, we filled out a questionnaire, but what kind of invasive background check was done to figure that out?

“It also determined that where RosesAreRed is very structured and amorous in thought, ManWearsPants can be pessimistic with an apathetic attitude, making these two puzzle pieces fit closely together, creating a continuous balance for a healthy relationship.” Helix stuffs his paper back in his pocket and then holds up a pen and paper. “Now, what can I get you two for dinner?”